


First Course (2004)

by strawberryelfsp (berreh)



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Domestic Bliss, Finger Sucking, I Can Eat a Peach for Hours, M/M, Masturbation, Threesome - M/M/M, Whisky Dick Does Not Exist In Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berreh/pseuds/strawberryelfsp
Summary: Billy & Elijah pass the time before dinner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written January 7, 2004. Why was Billy constantly drinking scotch in lotrips? It was like an unspoken formula: surly drunken Billy + horny twink Elijah + freak show Dom = OT3. ...It worked pretty well, though, didn’t it?

The sound of the ebbing tide followed Elijah up the hill as he climbed the stairs to the beach house. One hand brushed through clumps of sea oats waving over the railing, while the other held his shoes dangling at his side. He climbed slowly, feeling the sand beneath his feet, each step creaking on the gnarled wood. His eyes fixed on the bright square of the kitchen window, the only light in the expanse of black around him, growing larger as he approached the house. Another step and he could see Dom inside, obliviously busy at the sink, mouth moving and head dipping to a beat Elijah couldn’t yet hear. Elijah smiled.

He reached the top of the steps and walked across the huge unlit deck to the patio door, left open to let in the night breeze. The sound of the stereo met him halfway, and by the time he stuck his head inside the door, Led Zeppelin was blaring into his ears loud enough to make the glass rattle in the frame. Elijah smiled as he watched Dom shimmy and turn from the sink, laying a row of washed asparagus on the chopping block next to his glass of red wine as he sang.

_it’s been a long time been a long time been a long lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely time_

Dom drew in a deep breath for the high note, and Elijah dropped his shoes and shouted, “Hi honey, what’s for dinner?”

Dom leaped back, nearly knocking over his wine, but his startled expression turned to a grin when he saw Elijah standing in the doorway. He picked up his glass and pointed with his other finger before he drank. “Don’t track dirt in here. I just swept.”

“Yes, Mom.” Elijah left his shoes on the mat and bent to dust off his salt-crusted feet. Dom resumed singing to himself, bustling from sink to fridge to stove to chopping block while still wiggling along with the blaring music. His bare feet tapped on the tile, dish towel tucked through a belt loop on his jeans, shirtless and twirling a paring knife around one long finger. Elijah watched him, smiling. He adored Domestic Dom, and they so rarely got to see him in action these days. He leaned in and inhaled as the smells from the kitchen hit him fully.

“That’s fucking fabulous, Dom. What is it?”

“You know damn well what it is, because you spent the whole ride home making it talk to Billy and dance on his shoulder while he drove.” He nodded towards the steaming pot on the stove. “Lobster. What you smell is the quiche I’m making to go with it.”

Elijah’s smile faltered for a second as he recalled his former friend. Poor Mr. Squiggy. Then he peered around the kitchen and back into the den. “Where is Billy?”

“He’s having a bath.”

“A bath? Now? Why?”

Dom gestured absently with one hand. “Ask him yourself.”

Elijah turned away from the door as Dom went back to chopping garlic and humming to himself. “Rock and Roll” had since ended, and the beginning strains of “Since I Been Lovin You” followed Elijah out onto the patio, fading a bit as he made his way to the tiki torch at the far corner. He reached up in the dark, found the small switch, and the deck lit up in the sudden soft glow of gaslight.

The giant claw-foot tub stood nearby, shielded from the glare coming from the kitchen window. It was filled to the brim, steam rising in the night air despite the heat. Water stood in small pools on the deck around the tub, dripping from a bare leg hanging lazily over the side. Billy regarded Elijah casually, one hand balancing a bottle of Johnny Walker on the tub’s edge and the other dangling to the floor. His head swiveled back as he squinted in the sudden light, his hair wet and dark on his neck.

“Do you mind?” he said. “I’m trying to bathe.”

Elijah shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re actually using that thing.”

Billy brought his free hand up and took a leisurely bite of something wet and juicy. “It’s nice out here.”

“What’s that?”

“This,” Billy said around his mouthful, “is my peach.”

“What? Where did you get peaches?”

“I bought them while you and Martha Stewart were adopting Mr. Squiggy in there.” Billy closed his eyes and swallowed, then chased his morsel with another pull from the whisky bottle. His foot flexed, and a drop of water rolled down his big toe and dripped onto the deck with a soft pat. He took another bite and shifted in the water, rolling his head along with the whine of the guitar, stretching his neck to one side and then the other before leaning back as he let out contented sigh.

Dom dropped a saucepan into the sink, and Elijah jumped and felt his face grow red. He tilted his head casually and scratched his nose.

“How is it?”

Billy swallowed and licked a drop of juice from his lower lip. “It’s heavenly.” He leaned back against the tub, the torchlight glowing on his upturned face. Elijah wiped sweaty palms on his jeans and cleared his throat. Billy’s eyes glittered and he grinned, his face flushed with humidity and alcohol, and lifted his peach to his mouth.

“You gonna get in, or you just gonna stare at my magnificent nakedness a bit more?”

Elijah heard Dom’s snorted chuckle from the open kitchen window, and scowled – but his fingers scrambled for the buttons of his jeans.

“What if someone… I mean, isn’t this a little bit... exposed?”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “To what? There isn’t a soul on this beach for miles. Unless you’re afraid of a fishing captain with really good eyesight.”

“’Damn you’ve got good eyes, Barrett’,” said Dom.

“Shut up, Dom,” said Elijah.

Billy watched him shimmy his jeans down over his hips and toss them over the nearest chair. The sea air was warm, but Elijah shivered as the night breeze hit his skin. Glancing around, he hurried toward the tub, but Billy pointed his peach at him and shook his head.

“No sand in my bathtub.”

“Aw, c’mon!”

Billy gestured at the shower-head, then took another swig from his bottle and closed his eyes.

Elijah scowled and hurried to the end of the tub, reaching for the brass shower-head and twisting it around to face him. He pulled the cord and stepped beneath the instant rain, grateful for its heat on his bare skin. He could feel them both watching him, amused by his chagrin, and he decided three could play at this game. Yank his chain, would they? He closed his eyes beneath the hot spray and tipped his head back, running both hands through his hair, arching his back ever so slightly, twisting his neck so the water ran down between his shoulder blades and pattered across his face. He heard water ripple as Billy moved, and in the kitchen the faucet turned off abruptly. Elijah didn’t smile, but straightened a bit and moved his hands down, slowly, over his chest, across his belly, and down, changing the patterns of water sluicing over his flushing skin. Steam The guitar from the stereo whined and moaned, mixing with the steam, rolling down Elijah’s skin as he drew in a long slow breath.

“SIIIIIIII—IIIIIIINCE I BEEN LOVIN YOU...”

Something shattered in the kitchen, and water sloshed in the tub as Billy swore loudly. Elijah burst into laughter, the echoes of his shrill off-key note fading into the night, and flicked water at Billy’s face.

“You gonna finish your peach, or you just gonna stare at my magnificent nakedness some more?”

In the kitchen Dom laughed; Billy smirked, and slid his leg up an inch higher. “Get over here.”

Grinning smugly, Elijah turned off the shower and put one foot into tub. The water was still quite hot, and when Elijah slipped in all at once the tub overflowed in a huge gush onto the deck. Elijah settled between Billy’s thighs and leaned in over his chest as the waves stilled.

“Look at this mess,” said Billy. “Must you always be so violent?”

“Around you, it’s a safe bet.”

Billy chuckled, and his breath hit Elijah’s nose, acrid and stinging. “Jesus, Bill, how can you drink that shit?”

“I’m sorry, love, they were all out of Candy-Arse Lite.” He took another swig, turning his head to avoid braining Elijah with the bottle as he did so.

“Well if you expect me to kiss you, you’d better give me something that tastes better.”

Billy eyed him, then took one more long swallow and let his arm drop to the floor. The bottle, mostly empty, slipped from his hand and rolled to the deck with a glassy thud. He took a final bite from his peach and held the remains out to Elijah, raising an eyebrow in offer. The juice rolled down his fingers and dripped into the water between them.

Elijah’s knees squeaked on the porcelain as he moved forward and pressed his full weight against Billy’s body. He smothered the startled _mmph!_ with a kiss, bracing himself with both hands on the sides of the tub. There was a small sucking sound and then Elijah drew back, smiling around a chunk of fruit still marked by small pointy teeth. Billy’s empty mouth gaped, gasping for breath. Elijah swallowed his prize and licked his lips.

“Thanks.”

The mangled peach hit the floor and Billy smeared a sticky hand-print up Elijah’s back, pulling him off balance to fall atop his chest. The whisky on his breath made Elijah’s head reel, and he closed his eyes and let it mingle with the thick sweetness of peach and the ever-present taste of Billy. One hand clutched at the dripping hair curling against Billy’s neck; the other went white-knuckled on the porcelain at the first scratch of teeth as Billy’s mouth moved downward along his neck. He let himself be drawn forward, buoyed by the water; his knees settled around Billy’s hips with the smack of flesh on flesh, and Billy grunted and drove his hips up hard against Elijah’s straddling thighs. Elijah gasped at the sudden pressure of Billy’s cock on his own, moving tight and slick in the water between their bellies. Billy’s lip curled in a growl, and he shoved a hand into Elijah’s hair to yank his head down for another kiss.

Eventually, some back corner of Elijah's mind realized the song had ended and silence had taken its place. For a moment there was nothing but the faint rush of the ocean behind them and the small splashes as they moved, the sounds of Billy’s breath and his own heart beating. And then the same rolling melody began over again, and Elijah opened his eyes. He let Billy’s earlobe slip from between his lips and turned his head towards the patio door.

Dom leaned against the door frame, dish towel dangling from one hand and the stereo remote clutched in the other. He said nothing when Elijah met his eyes but stood silent in the shadow, his face and chest thrown into pale relief in the glow from the tiki torch. Even from here, Elijah could see the pulse leaping in his throat. His chest rose and fell with the tiny shivers of too much control, and Elijah felt a grin creep across his face.

“Dom,” he said softly.

Billy turned his head, drawing in a breath at the sight of the night air raising goose-flesh on Dom’s belly, and the long-fingered hand sliding into the waistband of his already-straining jeans. Billy’s cock throbbed between them and Elijah ground against it, his eyes locked on Dom’s as Billy gasped. And swore “Dom,” he said again, and smiled sweetly, tilting his head against Billy’s, silently waiting.

Dom smiled then, a soft little grin, and shook his head in the negative. He pulled his hand from his jeans but stayed where he stood, stretching a little, squirming against the seams of his jeans. Elijah felt Billy’s mouth return to his neck, and Dom sighed and let his head rest against the door frame. Elijah returned his smile and held his eyes for a moment longer, and then turned to face Billy and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be so impatient,” he said. “I was trying to be polite.”

“You’re too nice to the kitchen help,” Billy said against his skin.

Elijah giggled and ran his hands up Billy’s chest, leaning in to lick away a drop of sweat rolling down his cheek. “Wait till you see how I thank the chauffeur.”

Billy grinned and started to reply, but his words were lost in a groan as Elijah ground down once more with feeling. Billy’s hips tried to move but they were trapped beneath Elijah’s weight, and his heels squeaked and skidded uselessly on the floor of the tub. Water splashed out onto the deck and Elijah sat up, shaking his head in dismay.

“Look at this mess,” he said. “Must you always be so violent?”

Billy’s eyes narrowed. “Fucking cocktease.”

“Such things you say,” Elijah purred. “You Scots are such charmers.” He drew his fingertips lightly across Billy’s shoulders and down along the center of his chest, sliding down his belly, until they slipped into the water between their bodies. “Lean back.”

Billy stretched his arms out along the edge of the tub, sliding down as much as the narrow tub would allow. He leaned his head back and exhaled, swearing as Elijah’s hands moved beneath the water. They moved again, and Billy’s eyes rolled back as he spit out a string of obscenities. Elijah rose up onto his knees, and dropped a quick kiss on Billy’s open mouth. “Stay with me,” he whispered, and then braced his hands on the tub and sank back down as far as he could go in one smooth descent.

Billy’s head fell back and a strangled groan rolled from between his lips. Elijah watched him, smiling, and then slowly began to rock. The water moved with him, warm and smooth, sliding everywhere their bodies touched. Elijah’s knees pressed into the sides of the tub, finding just the right leverage, letting him rise and fall and move his hips as slowly as his thigh muscles could stand. He bit his lip to keep his mouth closed, snorting through his nostrils in an effort to hold on to his tenuous control. Billy’s stomach muscles bunched and flexed beneath him, trying desperately to quicken the pace, but Elijah had balance in his favor, refusing to let him thrust, keeping his movements slow as he gripped the tub until the tendons stood out on his forearms.

“Look at me,” he said.

Billy’s eyes opened, dull green in the flickering torch light, heavy with whisky and lust. Elijah reached a hand up and traced it along the beads of sweat pearling on Billy’s forehead, before resting it over the curve of his cheek. Billy turned his face and placed a single kiss in the center of Elijah’s palm. And then his eyes flashed, and he drew Elijah’s thumb into his mouth all the way to the base of the knuckle and began to suck.

Elijah jerked and let out a moan, his torturous rhythm stuttering and accelerating before he could stop himself. Billy gripped his waist with both hands, still sucking his finger, growling between breaths, and Elijah’s thighs began to burn as he drove faster. Water splashed onto the floor, cooling as their bodies heated, slapping against the tub in time with their thrusts. Elijah’s breath came short, his body shaking and his blood pounding in his ears, and the only thing that could tear his gaze from the sight of Billy’s glittering eyes and working throat was the sudden muffled noise from the doorway.

Dom sat on the deck beside the open door, leaning against the wall, one knee drawn up and the other leg sprawled wide. His left hand curled on his chest, rolling a nipple between his fingertips; his right hand pumped furiously between his thighs, his jeans gaping as his long fingers wrapped brutally tight around his cock. He met Elijah’s gaze and held it, licking his lower lip, and Elijah felt his balls begin to tighten. Billy groaned beneath him and Dom began to gasp, trembling, his mouth falling open as he stared at Elijah. Elijah moved his mouth without voice, Dom, Dom, and then Dom was coming in long waves onto his fingers and belly, choking out each breath in the shape of both their names. Elijah wanted to smile, started to open his mouth to say something, but then Billy’s hand was on his cock, fast and hard beneath the water and his eyes closed and he cried out, his spine arching and his head falling back as his orgasm hit him without warning before he could even draw in a proper breath to scream.

Two more thrusts and he felt Billy convulse beneath him, pounding waves of heat, his whole body shaking, and he opened his eyes in time to see Billy’s eyes as he dug his fingers into Elijah’s back, gasping, before he finally slumped back against the tub and went limp with a breathless sigh.

Elijah’s elbows finally gave out and his shaky thighs wouldn’t hold him; he fell forward, stretching out along Billy’s panting chest, resting his cheek against one shoulder. He looked over for Dom – he sat catching his breath, regarding them from half-lidded eyes. His hand was still buried in his jeans, and he managed a one-sided smile. Elijah started to say something, but then he heard Billy’s voice low and rumbling beneath his ear.

“He,” Billy said, “was afraid of being exposed.”

Dom nodded. “He’s obviously a fragile flower of modesty.”

Elijah smiled, snuggling a bit into the feeling of Billy’s hands tracing circles on his back. “It’s not my fault. I didn’t know you two were going to gang up on me with fresh produce and Led Zeppelin.”

Billy chuckled. “If I’d have known that beforehand, I’d have kept my CD in the car for when we’re stuck in traffic. I’m sure the Santa Monica freeway would enjoy the display you just gave us.”

Elijah poked a finger into his ribs, and Billy yelped and shoved at his chest. They began to wrestle, splashing more water onto the floor, until Elijah stopped suddenly and took in a deep breath.

“What’s that smell?”

Dom’s sleepy eyes shot open.

“Shit!”

He leaped to his feet, or tried to, his shaky legs refusing to hold him on the first two attempts. Finally he scrambled up and raced into the kitchen as the first faint tendrils of smoke began to creep out from open window. Billy and Elijah shook with laughter as they heard him flailing and swearing, the clattering sound of pots and a torrent of running water covering up most of their giggles.

“Oi, be careful, Dom!” Billy called.

“And don’t use your right hand!” added Elijah.

Billy brushed a drop of water off Elijah’s face and said, “Come on, then, let’s go give him a hand. It’s our fault anyway, for distracting him so.”

Elijah smiled and started to rise, testing his legs as the smell of burned quiche began to spread across the patio. “Oh well, at least the lobster will be alright,” he said. His stomach growled in response, and he felt only the smallest twinge of guilt. Poor Mr. Squiggy.

Billy laughed again, and from the smoky kitchen Dom yelled, “Stop laughing and get your arses in here, you wankers!”

“Pot and kettle, my dear,” called Billy.

“You love messing with him, don’t you?” grinned Elijah as they rose from the water. He slid his arms around Billy’s waist, and they looked up at the shadow of Domestic Dom bustling in the kitchen. Billy smiled.

“We’ll make it up to him after dinner,” he said.


End file.
